Words for Thoughts

Paper Fold

Crimson ink spread across the page
The crinkling edges are uneven
And the folds are in a line
The words tucked between the seam
Hiding under the bed of papyrus
A sharpened quill digs the ink
The black liquid bleeds
The creases are caving down
And the words will be compressed
And I will go with it
Because I am that paper fold